


Harassment

by cyber_phobia



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Bad Flirting, Bad Puns, Cybertronian Reader (Transformers), F/M, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 11:22:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17202557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyber_phobia/pseuds/cyber_phobia
Summary: Ratchet has some difficulty accepting anything he doesn't do himself.





	Harassment

You hovered over the Autobot medic, smirking at the obvious attempts he was making to ignore your presence. “How long have you been working exactly?” you questioned, Ratchet responded with a rough “I’m fine.” You reached around him, turning off the monitor he had been staring at for hours.  
“We should get some energon.” you said, grinning at the mech. Ratchet huffed, turning the monitor back on. “No.” Though he couldn’t see it, you gave him an unamused frown. “Come on Ratch, you’ve been working nonstop for ages! You can continue working after you refuel and recharge.” The red and white mech grumbled under his breath, still working.  
“You know what Optimus would say.” you said, obviously trying to tempt him away from the monitor “Plus, what kind of medic would you be if you neglected your own health?” The old cybertronian gave no sign that he was going to heed your advice “I’ll stop overworking when the war is over.”  
You vented, but pulled away from the mech all the same “The war won’t be over any sooner if Cybertronians do more harm to themselves than the enemy.” Ratchet hesitated, digits hovering over the keys. He looked over his shoulder, only seeing the empty silo.  
\--  
Ratchet woke up bewildered and disoriented. He lifted up his frame, metal creaking a bit. He had fallen asleep at his station, he realized.  
A gleam in the corner of his optic caught his attention. An energon cube. Several energon cubes. He didn’t even need to guess to know that you had left them there. You had obviously predicted that he would continue to deprive himself, hence the extra cubes. It almost made him feel guilty about being so stubborn.  
Almost.  
He was doing his job. A job people needed him to do. He was in the right. Wasn’t he? The medic grumbled shaking his helm. Of course he was right. He had been doing this for centuries, you had only just arrived a few cycles ago.  
The old medic took one of the cubes, leaving the monitor and going towards Medbay. He should probably check the supplies. Yes. Another thing to add to his list of responsibilities.  
“Hey Ratchet!” the medic turned at the call of his name. It was you. Of course it was. His mild annoyance soon turned to panic as he processed the image before him.  
Bumblebee was carrying you into the medbay, not allowing you to walk yourself. Soon he saw why. Your pede was mangled and dented in a horrific way, steady drops of energon leaking from it. Ratchet rushed over, scanning over your frame frantically.  
But you still wore that cheeky smile. “I must’ve hurt myself falling for you~” Ratchet gave you an astonished look, before narrowing his optics at you. Were you really doing this now? “Are you my appendix? Because I’ve got a gut feeling I should take you out.” Primus why.  
Ratchet scowled at you “You don’t have an appendix.” You shrugged “Worth a shot.” Bumblebee whirred a laugh “They made me wait for fifteen minutes for them to choose which one they wanted to use.” he chirped, moving to put you onto a medical berth.  
Ratchet’s annoyed look shifted into one of mild horror “They had more?” he hissed. “I wish I was your coronary artery, so I could be wrapped around your heart.” You piped up from over Bumblebee’s shoulder. “We don’t have hearts.” Ratchet almost looked desperate, praying to Primus that you would stop. The internet was a mistake. Letting you have access to it was a mistake.  
It was too bad that his cooling fans were whirring loud enough for everyone to hear. Unfortunately for you though, Ratchet claimed harassment, as if his fans weren’t cooling at full blast. You couldn’t tell if he was joking about a Restraining Order. Apparently Optimus didn’t know either, since he had explained to Ratchet that a human court would most likely not put a Restraining Order on a giant alien robot.  
“Can I take your temperature? You’re looking hot toda-” Ratchet’s servo shot out, covering your mouth. He could feel your infernal smirk shift underneath. His whole frame freezed as you put your own servo to servo, and kissed it. “It’s not harassment Ratchet, it’s affection.” you teased, pressing your fore-helm to his. “Primus.” he said wearily, batting your face away in embarrassment.


End file.
